


SCP - Half Blood

by dchambai



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, SCP Foundation
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-17
Updated: 2019-01-08
Packaged: 2019-04-24 04:46:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14348253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dchambai/pseuds/dchambai
Summary: Sometimes the mortals know more than they are given credit for. Sometimes they know more than the children born into the madness of the unknown do.





	1. Welcome to the madness

“Continue observation, inform me if anything changes”.

“Yes, sir”.

“Oh, and make sure they don’t wonder too far out, we don’t want to have to deal another containment breach”.

* * *

Must be interesting, living trapped in a glorified ant farm. Blissfully unaware of the people who watch your every move like a God. I should know I’m one of them.

At least I hope so. The Foundation gave me this “minder” job because I was in their words “a fine agent with years of experience and a stunning personality”. Really they are just to lazy to find anyone else and the simple fact that I'm somewhat expendable.

And I sit here watching what are suppose to be SCPs run around thinking their great heroes or the gleam in their eyes thinking they have a great destiny awaiting them, I do feel slightly bad.

I emphasize “slightly”, in saying that.

Its not all bad I suppose, I get relative free rein which is more than I can say about other agents like me and technically everything is on the Foundations expense. Although Mason keeps threatening to revoke it after I bought a flat screen TV, again.

But hey, being a spy is a great reason to be a terrible person to everyone around me.

I even got a fake name.

But seriously, what kind of name is Octavian

 

 

 


	2. Higher Dosage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Octavian is bad at talking with people. Especially if those people are a SCP

“Octavian!”

_Its Reyna, what does she want now?_

“Yes, Praetor how can I be of assistance” even as I said it I realised I was being condescending.

I couldn't tell if she cared about the attitude I was giving her because all she told me was that “The Feast of Fortuna is coming up in a few days and everything has to be ready.”

The Feast of Fortuna. Dammit I forgot.

“Don’t worry everything will be in order, Preator” I told her as nonchalantly as possible

“I hope so...”

I nodded to before turning and walking away but before I made it far she called out to me

“Octavian?”

“Yes, Preator?”

“Do you ever get the feeling there's something wrong"

_Oh shit..._ , “What do you mean?”

“Like how nothing feels like it's really there, like this world is just some fantasy world someone put us in”

_Alright think fast. Come on, come on... Ah!_ “Preator, it's just the stress maybe you should go and talk to one of the Apollo campers, I’m sure they should be able to help”

“Um... sure I'll try, thanks”

_She thanked me, that’s new_

* * *

My bathroom is nothing to special with a basic white wall tiles, white sink, white toilet and a white tub .

_What is it with the Foundation and the colour white._

“Status Report”

The radio to the Foundation outpost was designed to look like toothbrush. Why a toothbrush I will never know but atleast it works

“This is Agent – 23/A1, the Feast Fortuna is coming up so I need you guys to cook up something good this year and please nothing too weird for a prediction, I mean it Sam”

I heard some faint giggling. _Dammit Sam I know what that giggle means_

“Sure laugh while its my ass and career on the line _”_

“Don't mind her just carry on with observation.”

“Also I think we need to the increase dosage for SCP – 4095 – C, she is starting to ask questions again”

“Very well, request has been noted and will be taken in for consideration”

“That's all, signing out”

“Good luck agent, signing out”


	3. This is not good

Ah… The Feast of Fortuna.

What a sad joke this all is, watching the children play pretend, actually believing this will somehow tell them if good fortune is on their side.

But really the “good fortune” has a name. Her name is Sam. And she is a never chooses favorites 

Its weird watching all of them gather in the center of camp, so happy, with smiles all around.

I almost feel bad about all of this.

* * *

“Octavian, where are you? We are about to start.” I heard Reyna shout my “name”

“Give me a minute, I have to get a few thing ready”

Lets see …. knife, cheap teddy bear, toga and hidden ear piece.

“Alright, I’m coming”

As I walked out of the house, I looked at her. Her Legionnaire armor was newly polished, her hair shined in the light and her face was was soft in a way I could explain

She looked stunning. Beautiful even.

As beautiful as something that isn’t human can be.

“Are you okay?” She looked concerned, this was new for one of them.

“Ya, it’s just been a long day” _Note to self, investigate this sudden development in emotion of_ _SCP – 4095 – C._

* * *

As we walked to the center of camp for the Feast, she actually asked me something that I never expected from her of all people.

“Octavian, why do I hate you?”

“Wha.. What is that suppose mean?” _Okay this was definitely something new for one of her kind._

“It’s just… I can’t remember what you did, I can’t remember when I started hating you. I sometimes don’t even remember when you first came to camp. There’s this blank in my memory and its starting to freak me out”. _She sounded... distressed?_

_What the hell is going on with her._

_Okay, just play it cool._ “Reyna, look you started to hate me when you were 11 and I broke your arm, also I’m not the nicest person in general, I also may have undermined your authority on more than a few occasions, do I need to continue?”

“No, no that’s more than enough reason to hate you” She giggled. I almost sounded like a laugh.

“Uh... Reyna, I think I forgot something I just need to run back real quick and get it” _Okay I have to inform the Director Steven about this._

“Sure, just hurry the Feast is going to start in five minutes”

“Okay don’t worry” and with that I ran off in the opposite direction.

* * *

“Command?”

“This is command, what’s up Agent – 23/A1?”

“Sam, we may have a problem”

“A problem, whats wrong?”

“Its SCP – 4095 – C, I think she’s becoming self – aware”.

 

 


	4. Jackson and a Feast for Idiots

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'am really sorry for being extremely late. School decided to kick my ass

There was an awkward silence that followed that bit of news.

“Is she the only one showing signs of this? Is anyone else developing signs?”

“So far no, 4095 – C is the only one.”

“Noted, in light of this your request for a higher dosage has been approved.”

“Thanks, Sam.”

“No need for thanks, just maintain observation.”

* * *

The actual feast was mild if you could call it that, even if it was made up of teenagers. The Greeks decided to come this year, so there were more bodies around than usual.

“Hey, Octavian?” I heard someone call me from behind the bench I was sitting on.

_I know that voice. Great! the last person I wanted to deal with today_

I turned around to look at him.

“Hello, Jackson… what do you want?”

_Perseus Jackson, SCP – 4095 – A, “Son of Poseidon”, “Saviour of Olympus” and whatever stupid nickname they decided to give him. One thing remains the same though._

_He’s always annoying._

_I’m honestly surprised we hadn’t terminated him yet. He’s more trouble than he’s worth._

“Look… I just wanted to know how you were doing? With the war over and you almost dying…”

“I’m fine Jackson! Just leave me alone” I replied a bit harsher then I meant to as I turn around to look away from him.

“Octavian, I’m just tryi-”

I cut him off before he could finish

“Here’s a bit of advice for you Jackson, don’t, I’m doing just fine! Just go…” I trailed of as I finished my sentence.

I didn’t even look at him as I said that and I didn’t look as he left. I just stared forward not really looking at something in particular.

* * *

It could have been a few minutes or it even could have been a few hours, before someone touched my shoulder. I snapped out with some surprised and looked up at who’s hand was it.  


“Reyna. What’s wrong?” I sounded concern, which surprised even me.

“Octavian, you need to make the prediction now. Everyone’s been waiting for you for the last five minutes.” I looked around and realised that everyone was staring at me.

_How long did I blank out?_

“Sorry.” My reply was a bit weak, but it was enough for her.

The ritual was simple enough. Act mystical. Cut open a teddy bear and pull out its stuffing. Then pretend to read.

“Hey, dude” My tiny earpiece came to life.

“Just tell them that everything is going to be fine” she said an unusually monotone voice for her.

_Sam actually sounds sad? She’s usually much happier about this._

“The signs look good! All is well for the year ahead of us.”

A cheer went out at this announcement.

_Well at least for however long Sam is in a good mood for._

* * *

Back in the bathroom.

I am starting to think that this is what my whole life here revolves around.

“Sam? You there?”

“Yup! Something wrong?” her voice was always nice to hear.

“No, I just wanted to talk to someone” I replied sounding deflated after a long night of dealing with the SCP’s

“Actually, I have a question.”

“Ask away kid”

“How long do I have to keep doing this job?"

“I don’t know, sorry kid” She replied sympathetically.

“Its just that this job is starting to get to me”

“Don’t worry about it kid, just get some sleep. We’ll talk tomorrow”

“Fine, goodnight Sam”

_“Goodnight kid”_


	5. Bad Dreams and Worst Advice

My dreams are burst of vague images and voices.

The voices of people I don’t know.

The silhouettes of people watching me.

I hear the sound of crying.

My crying.

I wake up crying.

The dream is an almost nightly feature of my sleep.

I can’t avoid it no matter how much I try.

Even as I sit in bed and try to calm myself down, it still replays in my mind.

* * *

 As the water washed over my body in the shower, my thoughts raced as to what the dreams are adding up to?

_The silhouettes?_

_Why the voices?_

_Who are they?_

_What are they?_

By that point I realised that I had been in the shower for to long and got out, shutting it off and wrapping a towel around my body and hair.

I stared into my bathroom mirror, half expecting something else to stare back as I move my hand up to touch the glass.

_What’s happening to me?_

* * *

 After braiding my hair and putting on my uniform, the rest of my morning involved my usual routine.

Do roll call.

Have breakfast.

Train with the legion.

Make sure Octavian isn’t pissing off the campers too much.

Deal with camper complaints.

Deal with Octavian’s complaints.

“Good morning, Praetor” I heard a voice come from behind me.

Its him, I can almost hear his smug.

“Good morning, Augur” I replied, it was more a grumble than anything else really.

“What are you going to complain about now?”

“What? Can’t I say hello?” he was using that tone, I can tell he’s mocking me.

“Look! My job is to deal with real problems, not your stupid little nit-picks”

“I wasn’t going to complain, I swear!” the tone was still there.

“You are insufferable!”

“I was going to say the same about you”

_Mocking. That was all he was good at._

* * *

 “Reyna?” the voice said with a confused tone.

“You sound surprised?” I replied.

“Because I am, you were the last person I was expecting to come here”

“I get the shock Killian, but I really need to talk to someone about this and you were the best choice.”

Killian was the resident psychiatrist, he managed to convince Lupa to allow him to open a clinic and he’s been doing quite well for himself recently.

“So, what seems to be the problem?” he asks as he sits in the chair in-front of me.

“Nightmares” I replied looking at the table in front of me.

“Anything specific?” He asked, scribbling in a notebook.

“Voices and silhouettes” I replied, thinking back to my dreams.

“These voices… are they saying anything specific?”

“No, it more like mumbling to me”

“How long have these dreams been going on for?”

“Almost a month now”

“I see… I want you to start writing down your dreams. See if any patterns start forming. If my theory is right, this might be your brain trying to tell you something.”

“But what if it’s nothing”

“Then its nothing, just a bunch of memories having a hard time finding a place in your subconscious. But if I’m right then you might find something very interesting”


End file.
